


Simple and Clean

by orphan_account



Series: snktober 2020 [6]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Fullmetal Alchemist AU, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26865520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This was never supposed to happen.Eren was never supposed to die.--snktober day six: nostalgia
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Eren Yeager
Series: snktober 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946416
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23
Collections: SNKTOBER Month 2020





	Simple and Clean

**Author's Note:**

> fullmetal alchemist au except kinda more sinister LMAO and uh yes i wrote in present tense again … phew the past few days have been full of warm romance so uh. angst time ig
> 
> title is from song "simple and clean" by utada hikaru
> 
> also will probs be skipping tomorrow bc my brain is not functioning :DD

This was never supposed to happen.

Eren was never supposed to die.

The oppressive darkness of the room does little to conceal the liquid rust of Eren’s blood spreading furiously, staining and smearing the previously pristine transmutation circle inscribed on the floor.

The transmutation wasn’t meant to rebound, to go so horrifically wrong; Armin had calculated everything down to the last ounce, the last millimeter, the last breath. They were supposed to be holding a newly resurrected Mikasa in their arms; Armin should not be cradling Eren’s limp body while a malformed and scorching corpse lies in the center, the brutal and horrifying truth of why certain acts stay forbidden made painfully clear.

“Please, I’ll do anything to bring him back,” Armin sobs, struggling to use his free hand to draw circles with his spouse’s blood on the floor. Eren’s breaths had been shallow just seconds before; now, they are nonexistent.

Each circle he draws forces bile to rise in Armin’s throat, the cruel irony of using his lover’s blood in his last-ditch attempts to save Eren’s life not lost on him; the sticky warmth coating his fingers is a devastating reminder of everything that has gone horribly, horribly wrong.

Once the circles are complete, Armin presses his hands desperately against them—managing, still, to lean Eren’s body over his shoulders—and the world vanishes around him, taking with it the metallic, reeking stench of blood. He finds himself standing with empty arms in an empty vastness before an empty being whose only feature is a toothy, sadistic grin.

“What are you willing to pay?” the being asks, fully aware of what Armin desires, voice reverberating above and below and throughout.

Armin had thought he had been willing to give anything to get his sister-in-law back. 

Now he knows that he is not willing to give his husband in exchange.

“I’ll give anything,” Armin begs, as if he is a dying man—without Eren, he might as well be. “I’ll die in his place if I need to!”

“How foolish,” the being replies, glee alight in its words. “You should already know that nobody can ever cheat death.”

“But he died before he was supposed to,” Armin argues, desperation mounting toward a frantic, feverish pitch. “It was my stupidity that killed him! Name a price, any price—and I’ll pay it!”

The being laughs, long and loud and languid, resounding everywhere with that horribly scathing emptiness. “It’d be too easy for me to simply take your life,” the being says. “Do you think his and your lives are worth the same?”

“I don’t understand.” With every sentence exchanged between himself and the being, Armin feels as if he is taking several steps backward, farther away from attaining his one wish than when he first entered. “An eye for an eye; a life for a life.”

“You don’t understand.” The being shakes their head. “You don’t value your life like you value his, and that’s why it’s not an equivalent exchange.” The being pauses, seemingly thinking, then sneers. “But you value your life without him above all else…”

Armin can tell exactly when he and the being reach the exact same conclusion.

For one frightening, selfish moment, Armin hesitates; does he really want Eren to live if they can’t live together? Armin banishes the thought before it can fully form, disgusted with himself for even entertaining it, for even considering so carelessly throwing away Eren’s life.

“I give up my time with him in exchange for his life,” Armin says. “Take away the memories of the life we’ve built together so that he can live on in peace.”

“You’ve made a good choice! And since you’ve been so cooperative…” The being shoos him away, and shadowy arms grapple for him through his gates of truth. “I’ll only take his memories of your time together away. You’ll still keep a small part of him with you.” The being waves, their mouth set in a smile that edges a fine line between comforting and callous. “Pleasure doing business with you!”

Just as the doors close before him, Armin thinks to himself that it sounds far worse to be the one with his memories intact—a lover abandoned, obscured, and left to rot among the infinite sands of time.

\--

Eren has always lived on the outskirts of a small, secluded town; through the years, he’s lost neighbors, his mother, and even his sister to a localized epidemic. When he thinks of the circumstances of Mikasa’s passing, human transmutation crosses his mind, but fear clouds his senses; he lacks the fine technical skills, anyway, so he could never attempt it himself.

His alchemy is good, though, and he is a licensed alchemist, as it is what allows him to put food on the table and the electricity running. It’s an existence with little passion, but an existence nonetheless.

A few months prior, he had awoken in his bed, head pounding and limbs aching but otherwise completely fine. His entire house smelled freshly cleaned, the acrid odor of bleach tickling his nostrils as he went down the stairs to his basement. 

As he walked through his house, inspecting every inch and wondering why he couldn’t recall cleaning it, he had gotten the distinct feeling that his house was far too large for one.

That strange emptiness is what ultimately drives him to take the train to the city.

There is a little coffee shop that he likes to frequent, one he remembers stopping by each time he goes to the city, which is...supposedly often, even if he can’t quite remember when or why.

The bell above the door jingles lightly as Eren opens the door. A state alchemist, a man with blond hair brushing the tops of his eyebrows and rounded blue eyes, looks at him briefly before snapping his gaze away, shuffling to the side to return his coffee cup to the counter. Eren catches the man glancing at him again, lines crinkled around his eyes and his lips trembling.

Something akin to nostalgia brushes against Eren’s consciousness, just barely there, as if he is trying to listen in on a conversation being held several rooms away. 

Eren shakes his head, and the feeling dissipates. The sense of familiarity is gone so quickly that he has no time to even consider it, and instead he finds the man strange, if not trivial. He greets the cashier and orders, hardly paying attention to the hurried footsteps fading away behind him or the soft thud of a door slamming shut.


End file.
